Dare Devil

Dare Devil

AN: Just a random thing that popped into my mind. Ps not good with accents. Except the Canadian accent, cuz I am one. We don't say aboot! We do say eh once in a while.

"We're missing someone again." Britain said furrowing his eyebrows. He caught the attention of a few surrounding nations. Others were too busy chatting with one another to notice. "Canada are you here?"

There was no reply. "Dude, he's probably just late again. You worry too much bro!" America said with a bright smile.

"I'm sure birdie's fine." Prussia said calmly. "If you’re that vorried vhy don't you call him?"

"Good idea bro! I've got his cell number." America said with a smile and whipped his cell phone out.

"The awesome me is full of awesome ideas!" Prussia said with a smirk.

"Speaker phone guys. We can all talk to him!" America said. The phone rang a couple times before there was click.

"Hello?" Canada asked in his normal whisper. The countries could hear a rumble in the back ground.

"Yo Canabro! Where are you? You're late." America said. "What's that noise?"

"Sorry I'm late, my plane was grounded, snow storm." Canada sighed. "I'm just flying in. I should be landing in a few minutes."

"Wait do you mean you're flying the plane?!" Britain yelled in surprise.

"Um yes actually." Canada said.

"You fly! Since when?" America yelled excitedly.

"You guys didn't know? Vhy do you think I call him birdie!" Prussia interrupted.

"Hello Prussia." Mattie greeted the other country. "Before World War One. I was a bush pilot. I flew in both wars too. So it's been over 100 years since I started flying."

"Whoa dude that's so cool! You were in World War One?" America asked. "I didn't think Canada was even in it! Or any war for that matter!"

"You idiot, Canada was entered in the war the same day Britain was!" France said finally speaking up. "Years before you!"

"Oh bonjour papa." Canada said. France could hear the smile in his soft voice. "Comment ça va?"

"Ça va bein!" France replied. "Et toi?"

"Je suis fatigué." Mattie said with a yawn. America, Prussia and England looked from the phone and over to France. "Sorry guys I got to go. I'm landing now." He said before hanging up.

-----"I'm Canada!"-----

An: I always use a quote for line breaks. Sorry about my French. It's the Canadian version and it differs from France's French. Any who, now we're in Canada's memory's. Mattie's plane in WWI is a Nieuport 17. Did some research and that's the one I liked and it fits the time period.

Canada yawned and rolled over in his cot. It was just before sunrise, but the camp was already bustling. Mechanics were checking over planes and pilots were just rolling out of bed and dragging themselves to breakfast. Matthew sighed and sat up. He threw on his heavy winter coat and walked out of his quarters to find the breakfast tent.

The base he was currently stationed in was mostly Canadian pilots with a few British ones around. It was fairly small and often forgotten about and only had a few squadrons staying there.

"Hurry up Williams!" One of the pilots from his squadron, Roy, yelled jokingly. Matthew smiled and grabbed a cup of coffee and some pancakes before sitting with his squadron.

"Morning." The Canadian greeted. No one knew who he really was. They thought he was just another squadron commander, not the personification of Canada.

"It's not morning! The suns not even up yet!" The youngest amongst them said. His name was Jack. The kid wasn't even eighteen and was in the air force. "Did you hear about the German pilot with the blood red paint? Some are saying its bullet proof! What do you think commander?"

"I doubt it." Matthew said softly sipping at his coffee. He took another bite of his pancakes and listened to the conversations going on around him. Jack and Lloyd were talking about home, Roy and Billy were playing rock, paper and scissors and Alexander and Phillip were discussing battle strategies for ground troops.

The Canadian knew that most of the men around him wouldn't live to see the end of the war. The average life expectancy was less than three weeks for a pilot and with the training they've got, no wonder it was so low. He hated seeing a brother die, but it was part of the war and an unstoppable one. The pilots in his squadron were more like his brothers than Alfred ever was.

Canada wondered what the other nations were doing. Probably commanding droves of soldiers to their horrible deaths in the trenches or front lines. The Canadian hated being in command of such a large group of people and preferred to be in the air. "Get to your planes. We have the first patrol." Canada said softly.

The small group of pilots nodded and headed off to their rooms to get ready. Matthew grabbed a bowl of untouched raw fish and walked back to his room. "Hey Kuma-bear I brought you some fish." He called.

The small white polar bear crawled out from under his cot and yawned. He toddled over to the bowl of fish and started to eat. Canada smiled and grabbed his gloves and scarf from his pack and walked to the hanger.

Matthew checked over his Nieuport 17 to make sure everything is in working condition. The plane was in perfect working order and not even a scratch on the paint or a tear in the cloth. The Canadian allowed his men to paint their planes however they liked in their free time as long as they didn't paint over their country's marks or identification number. Matthew's paint job was simple; the tail was painted pitch black with a single maple leaf on the vertical stabilizer and rudder.

The mechanic smiled as he walked into the hanger. "Told you I would repair all those bullet holes! Be more careful up there!" He said wiping his dirty hands on his pants.

Canada smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I was trying to get a German plane off one of my guys." He quickly apologized. Matthew wrapped his scarf around his neck and grabbed his goggles from where they hung from the wing and put them on before slipping his gloves on as well. The mechanic startled the engine and gave him the thumbs up. Matthew waved as he taxied towards the run way.